Never let it be said that I don't, on occasion, make you laugh. At me.
I have posted before about my hair. My ahem, gray, hair. Guess what? I have more gray than ever, thanks to the drubbing of 2013, in fact, one temple comes in positively silver. I like gray hair on other people, actually, my husband (for all his many faults, today we will refer to him as my husband) was very much a silver fox, and foxy. I like gray on others, but not on me. If my kids were teenagers I wouldn't be sensitive about it and probably wouldn't bother with coloring my roots, but since my kids are wee I continue to color so I don't get mistaken for their grandmother. Since I color, I like to brighten my own color which runs brown with red highlights, and make my own flowing tresses pop, and so since I made a very real redhead I generally try to match her as best I can. My husband banned me from doing my own hair color at home, and really, that is OK since I wasn't very good. But going in for a hair appointment means getting up and going in and this year, my hair has not been top priority for me. I had roots a good inch and a half long a few months ago, but I finally got in and fixed it up. When I went last time my stylist friend was excited to show me Red Hair Root Paint! that I could use when my roots got long and I needed a tide me over. Of course I bought it, and today, since I was trying to look like I bathe regularly, I put on makeup, fluffled my hair and sprayed it on. Lo, and behold, my selfie, which makes it appear a wee red devil put a boot mark on my forehead. And this is after I removed the thickest paint from my part. Yeah . . .
in transit the scenery blurs
5 hours ago